Halcyon Days
by n0-5hit-sherl0ck
Summary: With Moriarty back in town, Sherlock has gone back into hiding, making a new plan including everyone he left out last time. But if Moriarty outsmarts Sherlock, who is truly in danger now? Post Series 3, Rated T for violence. Updated weekly. Eventual Johnlock.
1. Don't Say A Word

Hello my lovelies, welcome to my new story! This one I plan on updating weekly, and the chapters will definitely be longer than my last one. I'm planning on a 25 chapter story as of this moment, but that might change. So far I have 4 chapters written (it's 20 pages handwritten). This chapter is quite short but that's just because I'm trying to set the story up for you guys, since you need to know where I'm going after the ending of Series 3.

Before we get started, let me explain something to help you understand:

Halcyon days is used as a term to describe a time of peace in history. For example, someone might say the 1920's in America were the halcyon days before the stock market crashed. Of course, if you read my description, that's the last thing you'd want to use to describe the events in this fic. I'm using it ironically. No I am not a hipster, I just thought it would be interesting to have the title be the complete opposite of the story. I had chosen Halcyon Days as the title while writing also because a big influence to my story was Ellie Goulding's album of the same title. Each chapter will be named a title of a song on said album and I'd recommend listening because it might help you put a new perspective on the chapter.

Enjoy the story!

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_I'm more alive I've ever been_  
_So now I give you all my sins_  
_I've chosen you, I've chosen you_  
_But don't say a word_

The alarm gave an interruption to the thundering storm outside, but Sherlock Holmes was already wide awake, performing an experiment on a fingernail clipping. Dropping various acids and other compounds on the samples, he tried to discover what could and could not dissolve through the keratin. Of course, he couldn't care less about the results, but it was a way to keep his brain active and not asleep. Sleep was a rare thing these days for him. He groaned, got up and walked to shut off the alarm clock, his red robe flowing behind as if it was a cape. Ironic how he, the villain, even can pull of the imagery of being the hero. Hopefully Molly didn't hear the alarm clock, and he had a little bit more time to his self before she came in. As kind of her as it was to lend a place to escape to amid all the madness, he hater her perkiness in the morning. Even someone like he has to not be so perky at one point in the day. But… To have someone around, someone who was willing to keep him from being alone and put up with him, that was a gesture that is nearly impossible to repay.

His cell brought him back from his daze of thought, giving him another distraction from the slow return of exhaustion.

"Well Lestrade, I hope you're calling me with actual news about Moriarty, otherwise this call will be incredibly dull and a waste of calling minutes."

"No suspicious activity on any major scales yet, but there were spottings around town. Mostly around Baker Street, just like you-"

Sherlock hung up before he could finish his statement. "Useless news" he thought to himself. His homeless network already sent him photos reaffirming his suspicions. Quickly typing, he sent out a message to John and Mary, "As usual, instincts correct. Avoid Baker St. and keep tabs on your surroundings."

A light knock on the door signaled Sherlock to head down to the kitchen, for Molly always wanted Sherlock to come down for breakfast, even if he was going to eat nothing. Reaching the bottom of the steps, Molly Hooper stood at the stove, stirring a pot filled with scrambled eggs, dressed in her usual look: a sweater, darker colored pants and her hair resting on her shoulder in a braid. Sherlock walked over to the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup of the freshly brewed blend, leaning on the counter to talk to Molly.

"Nothing besides this for me, I have to plan now."

Without turning around, Molly asked "Your suspicions were right then, I assume?"

Sherlock made a sound signally yes while reaching for the sugar.

"So, spending a few more nights here then?"

"Of course, if you're up for it. No use risking your personal safety if you don't have to." Sherlock quickly rebutted.

Grabbing a plate from the cabinet, Molly poured the eggs out and walked over to the table, Sherlock following behind. Once settled, she responded "I've accepted that my life is in danger as long as I associate myself with you. I can handle that."

"Good, because my next suspicion is that he already knows I know he's looking for me. When we meet again, he won't kill me right away, but he may choose to use one of you for pressuring me. I don't need him to repeat of our first meeting at the swimming pool, because I doubt we'll be able to get out alive so easily this time."

As if right on cue, Sherlock's phone rang again, this time with a response to his text from John. Unlocking his phone, he opened the message. "We'll try our best to stay undercover. If anything goes wrong on your end though, call me. I'm still here for you, remember that. Mary changed nothing between us."

"Except she took you away from 221B, leaving me alone, and then tried to kill me." Sherlock thought to himself while putting his phone away.

Turning back to Molly now, he jumped right back in to where he was before. "I've told the others this, but you need to hear this especially. Keep your eyes wide open for the next couple days. Be cautious of what you say and do, especially when the subject involves me. Your story is that you have no clue where I am as of the moment and you don't know why you left, though it may have something to do with how I killed Magnusson. If we can fool Moriarty into thinking that I am still on exile from what happened on Christmas, I may be able to give myself the upper hand. Most importantly though, watch your surroundings. If anyone suspicious or mysterious starts to follow you, you text me or call me. Go to a public location and try to lose them, but call me the minute you notice someone. You cannot let yourself be taken. Odds are Moriarty is already starting to reform his network and with that he might send people after you, John, Lestrade or anyone else I care about. Mycroft and I are meeting today to come up with an official plan so keep your phone close. You may end up becoming part of our plan again if necessary. So, do you understand your part of our current plan and what you need to do?"

Taking her last bite of eggs, Molly wiped her lips with a napkin, took a minute to take it all in, and shook her head with a simple "Yes."

"Good. Because if I need you again, I don't want Moriarty or a follower of his to get their hands on you.. You are important to me and your loss would be my loss as well."

"It's 7:10. I need to head out. So sorry to leave you alone so early but there was a major vehicular manslaughter accident near Trafalgar Square the other day and we still have to ID three of the bodies and perform autopsies on five."

Sherlock stared in a little bit of a shock, but quickly recovered, saying "That's perfectly fine. I should probably get ready, one of Mycroft's men will be here to pick me up in a while."

Molly smiled, rose from the table, put her dish in the sink and left the room to get the rest of her belongings together. Sherlock remained at the table, taking another sip of his coffee, giving the caffeine a moment to rush through his body. He then reached for his phone, typed in Mycroft's number and hit dial. The phone gave two rings before the classy voice answered, "Are you ready to begin again?"

"Yes. I've warned them all of what they're getting themselves into, and everyone is still on board anyway."

"You have some very careless friends brother. I hope you're okay with them not valuing their lives as much as they should."

"I cannot control their decisions, or their fates."

"Well then, now that this is all settled, when would you like to meet?"

"Give me time to prepare, no need to rush. Send a car over now, I'll be ready in 20."

Hanging up the phone, Sherlock walked back up to the room, with the toenail laying in the paltry dish, bubbling in a pool of nitrate and silver acid.

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Ooooo, dark and mysterious ending. Is someone going to die within these first 4 chapters? 0_0 YOU BETTER STAY TUNED GUYS

See you next week!

With love,  
n0-5hit-sherl0ck


	2. You, My Everything

Hello again guys! Welcome back to my lovely story! Aren't you so happy I'm a liar and posted early? Yeah, well, I have 4 more chapters written up and I wanted to be nice. Expect one posted at least once a week, but I might be kind and post twice a week if I wanna be nice.

Enjoy last week's edition? Well here comes a new chapter at you! And it's a bit of a doozy. Don't worry, I have a conclusion all written up for it... that you guys get next week.

MUWAHAHAHAHAHA

Now I understand how Moffat feels. At least I'm not making you guys wait 2 years!

This chapter contains a little bit of Holmes brother drama, so be prepared for that.

Enjoy!

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_I know I'm gonna weep my heart out_  
_You know I'm gonna try much harder_  
_But it isn't the shit in my head_  
_Pulling me under this time_

Grabbing a towel out of the closet, he walked over to the bathroom, stripped out of his baggy sweats and t shirt and turned the water on. Slipping in to the stall, he let the cool water rush over him as it slowly warmed up. It was his only chance to relax today, because once he and Mycroft had a plan, it would go into action immediately, and god knows what he might have to do this time. Thankfully though, he doesn't have to hide this plan from all his loved ones this time. It was horrible to lie to his friends once already, to lie to them again over the same issue would be even more traumatic. After finishing washing the night sweat from his hair, he turned the water off, shaking his curls out in the shower stall before stepping out to dry off the rest of his body. Looking in the mirror, he saw the man who was a murderer, a freak, but most of all, a psychopath. That is one thing which he never wanted to be. Shaking his head, he walked back to his room, quickly putting on his trousers, shirt and jacket, then grabbing his coat to walk out the door. Right outside Molly's home, a man dressed in black with sunglasses on was waiting for Sherlock, and escorted him to the black car at the end of the sidewalk. Opening the door for him, the man stepped aside for Sherlock to climb in, Mycroft sitting across the aisle. The door closed once Sherlock was comfortably inside, and the car started moving shortly after.

"So brother, where do you plan Moriarty will be coming up? If we can capture him before he can recreate his network, we can end these games once and for all."

"No, capturing him will help nothing. He already had to have some help rebuilding his network if he was able to rebroadcast his face all over London, so it's no use capturing him. That just puts us in unnecessary danger. We need to let him meet with me, but on my terms, not his."

"And you expect him to just be okay with you choosing a spot to meet, especially after last time where you manipulated the place to your advantage? If he is as wise as we are, he'll know we're trying to manipulate him a second time, which we both know will fail for us."

Sherlock closed his eyes and put his hands together, receding into his brain to think about the consulting criminal. The options were limited in this case, and each option had a great amount of risk associated with it, leaving a very high chance of the loss of someone's life from this whole situation. Yet, if Moriarty were to pick the place, a plan could be put together for any situation he would choose. Coming back to the conversation, he smirked, causing Mycroft to huff and say "You know, if you're going to come up with ideas in your head, it would be kind if you would mention them out loud for the person who has the resources to hear."

"Moriarty is expecting us to have a plan prepared, and probably wants me to choose the place. What if he chooses the place, so he thinks he has the upper hand? If we come up with a general plan that can apply to any place or situation, he wouldn't even see it coming, and we could be the ones with the true upper hand."

Now Mycroft was the one who look a moment to think, analyzing his baby brother's plan, finding the flaws with it. Except, the balance of probability was in favor of the plan, because it was more likely that they could fool Moriarty more than anything else he could come up with. "Fair enough Sherlock. So exactly what plan are we coming up with?"

At this point, the car pulled up to Mycroft's office, and the door opened up, letting the two brothers out. Walking through the doors of the Diogenes' Club, they went straight to the private elevator that leads to Mycroft's office on the 4th floor. "I needed the space and the security as you tried to take down Moriarty's network the first time." Sherlock recalled Mycroft telling him. Pulling the key out of his pocket, Mycroft casually turned to Sherlock to mention, "So, it seems John still wants to stay connected after all. How sweet, your partnership can continue and live forever!"

"Oh shut up Mycroft, and stop reading everything that goes through my phone. I'm not going to do any communication with Moriarty that you don't know about, that's just reckless."

Mycroft smirked as the elevator doors opened, then he stepped aside for Sherlock to enter into the metal chamber first. The welcoming yet electronic voice of the automated system in the elevator welcomed the two, then closed the doors to send the two upstairs to the office. "You never know, you do happen to be a careless individual from time to time. How should I know that you wouldn't go text Moriarty to invite him over to 221B to have a cuppa with some biscuits with you again?"

Sherlock's countenance changed to a pissed off expression, sick of dealing with the harassment of his elder. He turned to him, punching him in the gut, then shouting in a frustrated tone, "What the hell did I ever do to you to lose your respect? When did I stop being your brother and become your child?"

Mycroft looked back in horror at the statements of his, suddenly feeling as though the elevator was condensing itself in. Lucky enough, the elevator doors opened up to his personal hallway, offering him an escape for the moment. He rushed out of the space, walking with a speedy pace to his office, pulling out his key as he walked, Sherlock closely behind him.

Reaching the door, he nearly put the key in the lock before noticing the lock being broken, along with the door being cracked open. Carefully opening the door, Mycroft walked into his office to see a medium sized man leaning on his desk, dressed as if he was one of Mycroft's men. The grin on his face said everything about why he was there and who he was, but before he could run out of the office, the man shot up and tackled Mycroft to the ground, keeping him steady while he pulled out a needle and injected him with a mysterious liquid. The man whispered in Mycroft's ear, a rough American accent irritating the already burning pain in his head, "Jim sends his apologies for not coming in person, but he asked me to give you this gift, along with a message for your brother." Dropping his head to the floor, the man stood up, expecting to see Sherlock, but was shown an empty hallway. Standing in the doorway, the man looked around the hallway, trying to figure out where Sherlock could of ran off to, before collapsing on the ground from a blow to the head. Behind him, Sherlock stood with a digital clock, kneeling down to beat the head in of Mycroft's attacker. Once enough blood had been drawn from his head, Sherlock quickly ran to his brother's side to check that he was still breathing and still had a pulse. Though breathing normally, Mycroft's pulse was slowly dropping. Quickly rushing out of the office, Sherlock screamed down the hallways "I need an ambulance! Someone call an ambulance! We have a man down!" Several of Mycroft's men came running to the call for help, three on cell phones getting in contact with various people to help. Sherlock was pushed to the side as all the men quickly picked Mycroft up and headed to the elevator to bring him downstairs, making it easier for an ambulance to find him. Sherlock pulled out his phone, searched his contacts for Mary, and dialed her number. Two rings preceded her picking up, answering the phone with a simple "Hello?"

Sherlock took a moment to normalize his voice before responding. "How fast can you get down to the Diogenes' Club? I need help."

"What happened? Are you hurt?" She asked, a motherly worry in her words.

"It's Moriarty. He send someone down here to attack Mycroft and I need you to possibly identify him, he seems like an old colleague of yours."

"I'll be there in 10." The call ended with a click.

Sherlock hurried back to his brother's side as the ambulance pulled up in front of the building, EMTs jumping out to get him picked up. Sherlock held his hand as they lifted him onto a gurney, whispering in his ear "Don't worry brother, I won't let Moriarty get any further than this on any one of us." Letting them load him into the back of the van, Sherlock turned back to the remaining men, informing them of his new plan. "Leave the body outside his office. I have a guest coming within the next 10 minutes who will come to try and figure out their identity. Two of you stay with Mycroft and make sure he gets the treatment he needs, along with the protection from anyone else." The men nodded, two heading back into the van while the rest followed Sherlock back into the building.

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Aren't you guys just in love with my ending? I know, I'm horrible. Don't worry, you guys get a new chapter next week with a bit of an investigation. Who is the mysterious man? AM I CREATING AN OC IN MY STORY? Maybe... Maybe not... Wait til next time!

With love,  
n0-5hit-sherl0ck


	3. Goodness Gracious

And we meet once again! I'm sorry for injuring poor Mycroft last round, and I'm also sorry that you really don't get to find out if Mycroft's okay in this chapter. I have more important plot points to worry about in this chapter. But, I promise you next week Sherlock pays a visit to Mycroft. Where? YOU'LL HAVE TO WAIT MUWAHAHAHAHA.

In other news I'm officially the mini-Moffat of my friend circle.

You may have noticed that I've added to the description that this will now have eventual Johnlock! Well, I finally figured out how I wanted to include that into the story so that's still a little bit away but it will happen.

Also, #221back

Enjoy!

* * *

_I lost a signal and put you away  
Swore upon the sun  
I'd save you for a rainy day_

Walking back to the elevator, Sherlock pulled out his cell phone once again, starting a text to Molly, Lestrade, and John. "Keep your eyes peeled more than ever, disguises may become an issue. If anyone claims to be from Mycroft's office and I have not told you ahead of time, do not go with them. Stay safe." Hitting send, he put his phone back in his pocket and clicked the call button for the elevator. Turning back to the guards who followed him, he put his hand out hesitantly to alert them. "I need my space for the next day or two. If anyone goes wrong, I have fighting training unlike my brother. If one of you could stay down here though for a woman named Mary Watson, that would be useful to me. Send her up the minute she arrives. I need another one of you to go to my flat and be a body guard for the older woman who lives there. Protect her as well as you can. I'll let her know you are coming. The rest of you, keep eye on the news, and try to keep my brother's privacy by keeping the story out of the news. Am I clear?"

All the men nodded yes, and with his fake smile, Sherlock turned back around and stepped into the elevator, closing the door. Only once the elevator started moving did he finally let his shield drop and let out a cry of pain. As much of a pain that his brother can be, he did need him, especially now when his life is most at risk. The elevator spoke to him letting him know they had reached the floor, so Sherlock put his face back on and stepped outside. Pulling out his phone once again, he dialed Mrs. Hudson's number, hoping Moriarty hadn't broken into the flat to hurt her yet. The sweet, naggy voice on the other end let him release a sigh of relief. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Hudson, I need you to listen closely. There will be a man in black who will come to the door, saying he's there to protect you and that I sent him. Listen to him because I actually did. Don't worry about me, I will be fine, but I need you to keep an eye out for anyone suspicious near the flat for the next couple days. The man who appeared on the TV a few days ago may be coming after me and I want to make sure no one else gets hit in the gunfight we're going to have."

"Oh Sherlock, is he the reason you disappeared before? Don't worry, you know I can be tougher than I look. You don't need to worry about me. But thank you for telling me this time. Be safe dear." The phone clicked off after that. Sherlock was about to put his phone back in his pocket before it dinged with a response. Opening the message up, Lestrade had texted back, "One of my guys just told me everything. I'm sending a couple over to keep him safe once he's in a room. Keep yourself safe, okay?"

"It's nice of Grant to provide his service but can't he just mind his own business?" Shaking his head, he walked back to Mycroft's office, stepping over the dead man and walking over to his desk. Taking a seat, he turned on the laptop that was in the center of everything, going to find his database of every person located in London. Walking back over to the body, he tried to take a picture of the face that gave the clearest angle, which was hard since it was covered in blood. After several failed tries, an angled front view photo was clear enough for the system, and it started its search. Setting the system to search for Americans who were located in London, Sherlock sat back and let the system find the information of this man. As it searched, the intercom next to Mycroft's desk came to life, as one of the men downstairs was trying to communicate with Sherlock. "A blond woman with a bit of a baby bump just arrived , is this Mary?"

Sherlock pressed the button and answered, "Yes, that's Mary. Lead her to the elevator and send her up to me."

"Yes sir."

The computer read 28% of the search completed when Sherlock turned back to look at it. "Why must there be so many damn Americans?" he thought to himself. Pulling out his phone to check if anyone else had responded to his mass text, the elevator door dinged open from down the hall. Sherlock put his phone away and got up, walking toward the doorway. Reaching the doorway, Mary came down the hallway, stopping in horror at the dead man in the doorway.

"Is this-" Mary barely got out before Sherlock started his train of thought.

"Yes, this is the man I mentioned on the phone. He was dressed as if he was one of Mycroft's men, which means he had to have had some secret agent training to be able to pull of blending in with them. His haircut implies he was in the military for some portion of time. His ability to quickly find a vein to inject Mycroft implies medical training to some degree, as that is one of the first things you learn. When he whispered to Mycroft, I caught a bit of an American accent in his voice, so he is originally from America and was trained through their systems . But, he let me attack and kill him, which means he had to be one of Moriarty's men and he was told to let me attack him, but I don't think he expected a murder."

"Wait… you flat out killed him? I am slightly surprised, I didn't know you had that kind of strength in you. What did you beat him with?"

He pointed to the cracked digital clock face on the floor, which Mary looked at. Once looking back at Sherlock, she gave him a thumbs up. "Bravo. It took me nearly 3 years of training to mentally be able to do that. Then again, I've never had to attack someone who hurt a family member."

Sherlock shrugged. "I have but that's not important right now. Now, let me flip the body over because unless you slept with this guy before I doubt a bloody backside is going to help at all with identification." He grabbed the man's chest and rolled him away from Mary until his face was upright. Sherlock stepped away to let Mary move around and get closer to the man. Mary took a few steps forward before bending down and taking a closer look at his face. She moved his head left and right, taking a closer look at his side profile, before laying his head back down and standing straight up once again. "He may have had an American accent but he was originally British, you can tell by the facial structure. He may have been from Britain and gotten British training but was transferred to America for one reason or another. We got British recruits all the time so that's nothing new. I feel as though I've met him somewhere, because his face does seem familiar to me. Maybe someone I worked with him before I went rogue?"

Before Mary had any more time to think, the computer beeped as it had finished its search. Both of them rushed over to the desk as a face popped up on the computer screen. Mary took a step back in shock while Sherlock's eyes opened wide.

"I mean, I'm not surprised that he teamed up with Moriarty, but I was told he was dead!" Mary said once regaining her countenance.

"Mycroft told me he died before I had to take care of him with Moriarty's network the first time. His resources must have been completely off then. He does disguises well though." Sherlock said.

Staring both of them in the eyes is the sparking green eyes of Colonel Sebastian Moran, a man who has the record for having their name on the most "Most Wanted" lists as well as being there the longest, and a man who was Moriarty's second in command. And now he's lying dead in Mycroft's office with his blood on Sherlock's hands.

* * *

WOOHOO I HAVE NOW INTRODUCED MORAN. Sorry, total MorMor shipper right here. Not saying I'm putting that element into my story, but expect Moriarty to not be so happy that I killed him off, especially in Sherlock's hands. So expect something interesting next week!

With love,

n0-5hit-sherl0ck


	4. Halcyon

And welcome back to my lovely fic! Ready for the next part? This one is a bit... simple mainly because I needed that hospital scene between last chapter and my next one. Sorry for posting a little bit late, got distracted.

Enjoy!

* * *

_When it's just us  
You show me what it feels like to be lonely  
You show me what it feels like to be lost_

"I'm honestly surprised Moriarty sent Sebastian on such a petty mission, especially since he was risking his death in the process. Why send such a pro assassin on such a task that someone more disposable for?" Mary pondered, after recovering from the shock of the surprise. Sherlock poised his hands against his chin, analyzing the facts in front of him. Moriarty was a smart man, he would never send Moran on a simple message of stunning Mycroft. His bodyguards were good but he could easily attack Mycroft before anyone would get to him. So, Moran must have had to do more than just injure Mycroft. He whispered something to Mycroft but Sherlock didn't hear the phrase. So, what was the message Moran told Mycroft?

Mary waited for Sherlock to come out of his mind palace before speaking, asking about messages. "Did Moran say anything before you killed him? While he was attacking Mycroft?"

"Yes, he whispered something to Mycroft, why I figured out the American accent. I was unable to catch the message though." Sherlock said. "I need to speak to Mycroft."

Sherlock climbed over the body and stormed down the hall, his coat flowing like a cape behind him. Mary stood dumbfounded in Mycroft's office, not sure if she should run after him or not. Once Sherlock reached the elevator, two of Mycroft's men approached him, confused by the rush. "I need to see my brother. Take care of Mrs. Watson, she's safe. Let the hospital know I'm coming." The two men nodded and turned away, while Sherlock backed into the elevator and let the doors close in front of him. Once arriving on the ground floor, he ran out of the building in a fuss, dashing for a taxi. Waving his hand, a taxi pulled up and he got in, nearly shouting at the driver to head to the hospital. Once settled in the back, Sherlock pulled out his phone to text John. "Want to come solve a case? You must be bored by now. I'll text instructions later." Smirking at his text, he hit send and put his phone back in his pocket.

The hospital wasn't a long drive from the Diogenes Club, so Sherlock quickly paid the cabbie off and rushed to the main entrance. Pulling open one of the doors, Sherlock strolled over to the information desk, ready to ask about his brother, when one of the nurses recognized him and handed him the proper forms he needed for fill out. "Your brother's office called ahead, just fill out these few forms for privacy reasons." Sherlock smiled, grabbed the pen, and started filling out the forms. The nurse continued talking as he filled them out. "He's alive, no permanent damage, but he is going to be stuck here for a few days. The poison nearly took out his heart, along with causing breathing problems, but he'll be fine." Sherlock handed back the clipboard, mumbled a "Thank You" and followed the other nurse who was leading him to Mycroft's room. Once reaching the private suite, the nurse turned to face Sherlock. "I should warn you," he started, "he was a bit groggy the first time he woke up and he hasn't been peaceful. Of course, you know your own brother better than I do."

"I can handle his unruliness, but thank you for the warning." Sherlock said as the nurse moved to the side to let him into the room. Grabbing the door handle, he turned it and opened the door, exposing the bright creaminess of the hospital room. Walking in, Sherlock went over to the bedside where a sleeping Mycroft laid, pale but otherwise healthy looking. The door shut as Sherlock pulled up a chair to watch his brother sleep until he woke up, no matter how long it would take him to wait. He needed to find out Moran's last words, at all costs. While watching him, John texted back. "You ask as if the answer wouldn't be yes. Where are you?" Typing back, "King George Hospital, ICU, Suite 106. Anyone stops you, tell them you're with me."

While typing, Mycroft stirred in his sleep, causing Sherlock to quickly send the message off and put his phone away, so his attention can be fully on his brother once he wakes up. Looking around the room, he found an ice bucket and a map. Grabbing both, he left the room to go find an ice machine to get ice chips for once he woke up. He also grabbed himself a cup of tea from the machine before heading back to the room. Resuming his place in his chair, he set the bucket of ice on the table next to the bed, putting a cup next to the bucket for him. Checking his phone again for any new texts, the door opened with a nurse coming in. "Just here to check his vitals. He'll wake up any minute now, he's been asleep for at least 9 hours at this point." Sherlock scooted his chair out of the nurses way so she could view the monitors on the bed. Pulling the clipboard off the wall, she grabbed a pen out of her pocket and started scribbling down numbers on her chart. The door opened as she was doing her hourly check, and John walked into the room. Sherlock's head popped up and a smile popped onto his face quickly before fading so no one could see. John came over and looked at Mycroft laying in the bed. The nurse quickly looked over at the boys, smiled, then put the chart back on the wall and left, leaving Sherlock and John alone.

"So, I leave you alone for 3 days and you kill a man who nearly killed your brother?" John asked. "And yes, Mary told me about Moran. Sherlock what the hell is going on? What is Moriarty's game this time?"

"No clue, which is why I brought you here. I know Moran told my brother something before I killed him but I don't know what. There isn't much to piece together until I know what he told my brother." Sherlock said.

"Do you think he's doing this to repay you for the fall?"

"I doubt so. I think this is an entirely new game he's playing, because he's playing a hell of a lot dirtier than last time around."

Suddenly, Mycroft was slowly coming back to consciousness, with both men turning their heads to the man. As he opened his eyes, Sherlock greeted him with a fake smile, leading Mycroft to a loud groan and John laughing at the petty feud that still continued between the two brothers. "What came over you to come and visit me?" Mycroft groaned out.

"Your lovely guest did. What did he say to you by the way?" Sherlock said, genuine curiosity in his voice.

"Nothing of importance besides that he was sending a message to you. It would be smarter for me to ask what he said to you." Mycroft said.

"If he had something to say, he didn't get it out before I killed him. By the way, you might want a new desk clock once you go back to your office."

"You killed him? Did you do it on my desk?"

"Of course not. I just beat his head in with your clock."

"Always being immature in your methods Sherlock."

"Well when did you become my parent?"

"I'm worried about your well-being."

"Well shouldn't I be worried about yours? Especially considering the state you're in?"

Mycroft rolled his eyes and then spoke again. "Well, if you've discovered the answer to your question, you two can show yourselves out."

The two men stood up and walked out the door.

* * *

Well, not the reunion you were expecting, but I didn't want them to be mushy gushy. We all know that the Holmes brothers are very emotionless about each other. But YAY, JOHN'S BACK.

I just wanna apologize if like any of you actually go to that hospital mentioned and I'm lying about how it works there... I honestly just googled Hospitals in London and picked on that I feel like would be appropriate. I'm American, let me be stupid and uneducated okay?

Next week's chapter should be fun ;)

Until next time,  
n0-5hit-sherl0ck


	5. Atlantis

Look at me, being a terrible person and not posting this at all.  
I'm gonna be honest, the next 6 chapters I'm gonna post have been sitting in my notebook complete written, I've just been too busy to type them up to publish. So in my day off, I've typed them off so I can release them on a continuous schedule again. I'm actually beyond sorry about that too guys. Enjoy.

* * *

_No fight in me, I'm defeated  
I know I'm fooled, I can't help it  
You make my, heart so helpless_

Walking out of the hospital hallway, Sherlock started muttering to himself, with John catching small blips of it. "Prick; all I wanted was information" he caught as they reached the main lobby.

"Sherlock," John said, grabbing onto his arm to turn him around. "You know this is Moriarty who did this. We both know that. What other information would you need from him?"

"Why I was lied to about Moran's status. The man who tried to kill him was already dead, back when I was planning how to disable Moriarty's network. Or, so I was told. He was his second in command, but the story I was told was he was killed while on a mission in Tibet. I bet he's the only reason Moriarty is back and has as much power as he did before. So, why did Mycroft cover up his true status from me?"

"I don't know, maybe he had the wrong information?" John sighed. "I mean, he did have it wrong about Moriarty and Irene, maybe he had it wrong about Moran too."

"I'm heading back to his office to see what else I can find on him from the archives. Coming?" He gave John a childish stare, hoping that would convince him to sick around longer before he had to get home to Mary.

"Of course I will." John said, taking a moment to think before speaking.

The two went outside, Sherlock signalling for a cab. Sherlock opened the door for John, letting him get in first before climbing inside after him. "Diogenes Club please." he ordered the cab driver. He pulled out his phone and typed away, which lasted the entire trip. After what seemed like an eternity of only key clicks, John was beyond relieved when the cab came to a final halt in front of the building. John pulled out his wallet to pay off the driver while Sherlock hopped out and moved inside the building. The two men called Mycroft's lift and waited in silence, hoping to not disturb any of the men peacefully relaxing in the room around them. John already had experiences with that and would prefer not to relive it. The lift made a soft ding as the doors opened in front of them. Both men stepped into the lift then waited for the doors to close before speaking.

"I thought you had said you already checked the archives before visiting Mycroft?" John questioned, turning to look at the taller man.

"I scanned to see who the face was, not about his information as well. That's why we came back." Sherlock retaliated as the lift slowed to a stop.

"Emergency brake pulled. Proper authorities have been contacted." An automated voice played through the elevator speakers.

"Pulled? Where the hell is the brake for the lift anyway?" Sherlock shouted, an obvious undertone of rage in his voice.

"Upstairs in your dear brother's office." came a voice from above. Suddenly, the ceiling lights went out and only a sliver of light peaked through the emergency exit in the corner. Out of nowhere, the exit opened to reveal a darkened figure slowly falling into the elevator.

"This is no surprise. Why wait so long to make a visit though?" John said, sarcasm blowing through the entire compartment.

"Well at least Johnny here missed me. What about you Sherlock? Did you miss me?" Moriarty said as he landed in between the two of them.

"So you broke into his office for a reason, but as you saw us come up, you chose to resort to your usual dramatics and pay us a visit. And I'd say by the look in your eyes this visit had to do with Moran, didn't it?" Sherlock deduced as his whole body tensed up in defense. Moriarty's entire expression changed, and now it seemed like a murder was about to happen. He rammed Sherlock up against a wall, fire burning up his eyes.

"I know you're the one who killed Sebby and trust me, that was one surprise I did not want. I was surprised when I found out the news, and oh the plan I have for you now knowing you killed my dear baby leader." Moriarty whispered with a furious tone. Behind him, John pulled out his gun and cocked it, ready to shoot the moment Moriarty made a move. Moriarty gave his signature smirk as he turned around to face John, Sherlock still locked against him by his arm.

Sherlock's eyes started to tear up from the grip Moriarty had on him, but he knew in the end he deserved this. Moran was Moriarty's John and understands the pain of losing the greatest person you've ever met. He tried to choke out John's name, but Moriarty only tightened the already killer grip around the man's neck.

"Oh John, are you sure you want to point that at him? Especially after what your wife did to him? Do I have to remind you of how much pain and suffering he was in after that bullet wrecked him?" Moriarty used his free arm to reach down and pull away Sherlock's coat and jacket. Untucking his shirt, the big ugly scar from the entry wound was red as the lack of oxygen flowing around his body was getting to him. John looked on in terror, remembering that painful night, and with all the strength it took, put the gun down and turned the safety back on. Moriarty smiled and let Sherlock drop to the floor, wheezing and trying to regain his breath. "This isn't the end though. This is only the beginning." Moriarty said as he jumped up to reach the vent and pulled himself through the hole.

John bent down and helped Sherlock to a sitting position to try and get him to catch his breath and form actual words instead of the inhuman noises that were coming out. "I know he's psychopathic but I never thought he would actually try to kill you with his bare hands." John yelled with nervous anger. Sherlock started to get up but John forced him to stay sitting, letting him get more air into him.

"He.. He's looking fo... For revenge." Sherlock got out through breathes.

"Did Moran's death truly affect him that badly?"

"Moran was, essentially you. But his."

"Wait, he mentioned the shooting. How would he know about that?"

Sherlock paused, then decided to go with the latter of his options. "He broke into the office, he easily could of found out about Mary that way."

"Oh, yeah."

"Obviously." Sherlock said, hiding his face.

John observed this and knew that something was up. Mary had taught him something new about Sherlock after all. "Sherlock, why would Moriarty know about Mary at all?"

Sherlock swallowed, his Adam's apple sliding up and down as he worked out how to present the issue to John. Luckily enough, the elevator started to move at this time, and he started to stand up.

"Sherlock, you're not getting off easy this time. This is my wife we're talking about! How does that little shit know anything about her, especially the shooting?"

Sherlock looked away for a moment, trying to form an expressionless face. He looked back, and without any emotion in his tone, he started. "Mycroft didn't know it was Mary who shot me. I kept that piece of information away from him along with anything that could clue him into finding that out. Moriarty wouldn't have been able to find out about that from breaking into Mycroft's computer or office. So, he must of talked to one of the only 4 people who know the truth. Obviously you and me didn't say anything, and Magnussen's dead, so that leaves only one option. Mary stopped by the office earlier, shortly after the whole incident with Moran happened. I don't know if she got home save though I told two of Mycroft's guards to make sure she did. Of course, if Moran can take them out, so can Moriarty. I think Moriarty may have Mary."

* * *

Just like Moffat, I have no clue how Moriarty worked his way into this chapter, and I'd love to find out something after 6 months past.

Nah, I typed up the next 2 chapters at the same time as this one, so I'll publish the next chapter on Monday next week. You all can find out about Mary then!

Until next time,  
n0-5hit-sherl0ck


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